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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22578031">One Day At A Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAceOfDiamonds/pseuds/LilyAceOfDiamonds'>LilyAceOfDiamonds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>We All Need Friends [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Titans (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Minor Injuries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:27:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22578031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAceOfDiamonds/pseuds/LilyAceOfDiamonds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy gets a text from a friend, and discovers some things about Jason he didn’t know. Which isn’t hard, since they’ve only had one short conversation, but still.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>We All Need Friends [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Day At A Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is now a series. Oops? I have lots of feelings about the boys and their traumas.</p>
<p>This one’s from Roy’s POV! I’ll probably switch back and forth, it’s more fun. There’s some injury discussion in this one, and Roy stitches up Jason’s wound from Slade taking out his tracker (my headcanon is that everyone was too busy with Connor to think about J’s injuries, and he wouldn’t tell them).</p>
<p>Title is from the AA handbook (i think), it seemed fitting.</p>
<p>If anyone has suggestions of things they want to see (fluff, angst, some damn therapy), feel free to comment or send me a message on tumblr (LilyAceOfDiamonds there too)!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roy stumbles into his kitchen late the next morning. Well, there’s a microwave, a mini fridge, and a coffee pot, that counts as a kitchen, right?</p>

<p></p><div>
  <p>It totally counts.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He downs some asprin and puts the coffee pot on. Halfway to the desk that has some of his project drafts in the half (okay, three-fourths) of the warehouse he considers his workshop, he catches sight of the kid sleeping on the futon tucked into the corner.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy hadn’t even heard the kid come in the night before. He’d left the address with him, and waited up an hour before giving up and going to bed. And the security on the doors didn’t alert him to any activity during the night.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Whoever this kid was, he was good.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He also hadn’t even bothered to find a blanket from, well, Roy was sure there were blankets around here somewhere. Scanning the open space, he finds the blanket he knew he had stuffed in a corner next to some unfinished prototype arrows. He grabs it and shakes it a few times to displace the dust.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Carrying it over to the kid curled up on the couch, Roy carefully drapes it over him. The kid, Jason, if Roy’s hungover mind remembered correctly, stirs a little before pulling the blanket closer and going back to sleep. Roy leaves him to his rest and checks to see what food he has that hasn’t gone bad.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Damn, Harper. That’s just pathetic.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There’s cereal, half a box at least. And surprisingly the milk hasn’t expired yet. So they can have breakfast. Roy’s gonna have to go out shopping after, even he knows you can’t live on some slightly moldy bread, granola bars, and those little pudding cups.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There’s plenty of coffee. He does have his priorities, after all.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The coffee finishes brewing and Roy pours himself a cup, drinking it at his desk as he edits some designs when his phone buzzes. He ignores it, but it keeps buzzing. He scowls as he checks who is messaging him, but clicks open the texts from Donna anyway. Ignoring Donna Troy has never had good consequences.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>&gt;&gt;Hey Harper, need you to keep your ear to the ground. New Robin is MIA</p>
</div><div>
  <p>&gt;&gt;Dick says he hasn’t heard from him in a week</p>
</div><div>
  <p>&gt;&gt;His name is Jason Todd. Pic incoming</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy opens the picture file and stares down at the face of the kid sleeping on his couch. Cleaner, but still the same kid.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fuck.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He knew that Dick had been planning to start that superhero squad up again, Donna had told him when she was trying to track down that Shimmer chick. He still keeps tabs on people in the business, since most of his clients are supes that need to find someone, like Donna, but he has tried to distance himself from them. Sure, he can track down intel on their bad guys, but he can do that with computers and send them a text. He hadn’t planned on having one of them on his damn couch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy sighs and texts Donna back.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>&lt;&lt;I’ll keep an ear out for him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Nice and simple, even if he doesn’t know what he’s going to do now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Especially if this new supergroup is the group of ‘friends’ Jason was talking about last night.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>As if on cue, there’s a shuffling sound from the couch, and Roy looks over to see Jason sitting up and blinking around.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Doesn’t look like much, but it works.” Roy shrugs when Jason glances in his direction. “Beats the streets, at least.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason grins. “Preaching to the fucking chior, man. It looks great to me.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>‘Even after living at Wayne Manor?’ Roy thinks, but he knows better than to ask. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t use Ollie’s mansion as a crashpad a time or two.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Coffee?” He asks instead, and gets up to pour another mug when Jason nods. He brings it to the futon as the kid moves into a sitting position, throwing the blanket on the floor so he can sit down next to him with his own mug.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“So, how long have you been roughin’ it?” He knows the answer, thanks to Donna, but wants to see what the kid will tell him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“In LA? Not long, few nights.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“And before that?” Even as he asks, he knows it’s a mistake. Jason tenses up, and glares at him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“None of your fucking business, man. Why all the questions?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy snorts. “Two questions is hardly an interrogation. But if you want tit for tat, go ahead and ask.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason squints at him, as if expecting some kind of trap. Slowly he nods.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“How long were you on the streets?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy hums. “In LA?” Jason rolls his eyes at the parroting, but a small smirk gives the found humor away. “I saved up enough to get this place ‘bout four months ago. Before that, depends on if you count passed out drunk in a bar ‘the streets’. But it’s been almost a year in LA.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He never means to drink enough to pass out, but he supposes that it’s better to be a drunk than a user if you have to be an addict.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Assuming they tossed your ass out when they closed at fuck-all in the morning, I’d say it counts.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yeah, most of them did, at least here in LA.” Roy shrugged. “Probably deserved it, too.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They’re quiet for a few minutes. Finally Roy’s cup is empty and he gets up to put it in the sink.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Walking away, he calls back to Jason. “Did you need to call anyone, let them know you’re okay? Where you are? That you’re still breathing?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy puts the cup down and turns to raise an eyebrow at the kid who had followed him with his own empty mug. Jason scowls at him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Fuck no. No one gives a shit about me.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy rolls his eyes. “Then why do I have Donna Troy blowing up my phone looking for the new Robin?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason’s face drains of color as soon as Roy mentions Donna, and he backpedals away until he hits the corner of a counter against his side and grabs at his ribs with a hiss.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Easy, kid. It’s okay, I haven’t told her where you are. You’re safe here. I’m ignoring the fact that you’re obviously injured and haven’t done anything about it, but only for a minute. We’re going to fix that, as soon as you sit the fuck back down.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason shakes his head. “How the fuck does she have your number? You some kind of private investigator or somethin’?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He hasn’t run further away, although he shifts away from the corner of the counter and lets his hand drop. Roy supposes that’s a good start, and turns to head into the bathroom. Jason moves quickly to block him, his wince almost inperceptible unless you knew it was coming.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Where are you going? Gonna call her?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy slowly puts a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Go sit down before you hurt yourself even more. No, i’m not calling anyone. I’m just going to get my first aid kit from the bathroom. Pain pills at least, yeah?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason allows the touch and squints at Roy for a long minute before he nods slowly, and Roy drops his hand to push past him gently.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Couch, now, kid. No running off!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He’s halfway suspecting Jason to be gone when he emerges with his first aid kit, but the kid is sitting on the couch, albeit curled in the corner and staring at the hallway watching for Roy’s approach like he’s waiting for an ambush.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Relax, kid.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He scowls. “I’m not a kid. Anyway, you didn’t tell me how you know ... how you know her. Or why she was texting you about me.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy grins. “Whatever you say, little bird. How about this, you let me fix you up and I’ll give you the answers you want.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The shrug is almost expected, knowing he’s a Robin. “Nothin’ much to fix, just some bruising. Everything else is mostly healed.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy rolls his eyes as he finds the pain pills in his kit and passes a few over to Jason, who swallows them dry. “Let me be the judge of that, okay? Can you take your shirt off for me?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason smirks. “Not gonna buy me dinner first? How rude.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Not like that, idiot. Just do it. Please.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Please.” The kid mocks him as he takes his shirt off, and there is truly some spectacular bruising along his whole ribcage.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy whistles. “The fuck did you do, run into a wall?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Freefall into a car.” He says it nonchalantly, but from the way his shoulders tighten up Roy knows there’s more to that story. It can wait, though.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy slowly and professionally feels around Jason’s torso, testing for any broken ribs. The kid just sits there, not making a sound and staring straight ahead. He was right, there’s just bruising. And fading rope burns along his wrists, but Roy doesn’t bother to mention them since they look like they’re healing fine.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Alright, you can put your shirt back on. Any more injuries I should check?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason’s eyes flicker down before he shakes his head, and Roy raises an eyebrow.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Try that again, without the lying. Any more injuries?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason glares at him again, but Roy just waits patiently for him to give in.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“My, uh, my leg. There was a tracker. Now there’s not.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Of course there was. Roy motions at Jason’s jeans, and the kid smirks before Roy can hold up his hand. “Nope, without the innuendo this time, as long as you have boxers or something on under there.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason shimmies out of his jeans, still smirking. Roy sees the jagged wound where it looks like someone took a knife to the tracker’s location and raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t do that, did you?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He shakes his head quickly, smirk gone, as Roy digs out the disinfectant, thread, needle, and bandages from his kit. “Is there a reason you haven’t gotten it fixed up?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason just shrugs one shoulder. “More important things, I guess.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy rolls his eyes again as he uncaps the disinfectant. “Of course. Watch out, this’ll sting.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He knows it hurts like hell, but the kid doesn’t let out more than a hiss as Roy pours a generaous amount of isopropyl on his leg. As he stitches, he starts answering some of Jason’s questions.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m pretty good at finding people, particularly metas and lowlife bad guys. I’ve helped Wonder Girl find people before. Doesn’t mean i’m gonna help her now, don’t worry, I just told her i’d keep an ear out.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“How did you, ahh, know she’s Wonder Girl?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy puts in a few more stitches before he opens his mouth again. “I, uh, used to be in the superhero business. Well, the sidekick business at least.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Really? Who did you work with?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sighs as he pulls the thread tight on the stitches and ties a knot, reaching for the bandages.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Ever heard of the Green Arrow?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There’s silence for twenty long seconds, and Roy glances up to see Jason staring at him. “Holy fucking shit! You’re Speedy? No one’s heard from you in years!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s only been like a year and a half.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Whatever. Why’d you stop?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy shrugs as he finishes bandaging the kid’s thigh. “We had some ... disagreements. Enough about me. Why’d you take on Robin’s name, wouldn’t you have rather had your own? Like, Jaybird or something?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Fuck no. Don’t call me that. Robin was the coolest! He was a total badass, taking on his codename was amazing.” Jason was pulling his jeans back on as he talked. “At least until I met him. He can be a real dick sometimes.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roy snorts at the pun. “Never meet your heroes, kid. It’s always a disappointment.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yeah.” Jason looks away, and Roy packs his first aid kit back up.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Enough questions for now. Wanna watch a movie or something, order in pizza?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jason grins. “Hell yeah!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>As Jason flips through his movies, Roy wonders what he’s supposed to do now. He’s a recovering superhero. A current alcoholic and an ex-junkie.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>How the fuck is he supposed to help this kid? He can barely keep himself together on the good days!</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They’ll just have to take it one day at a time. It might even be good, for both of them.</p>
</div>
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